<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=534740" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In Camp Before Philippsburg</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Without a bed we now sleep sound<br>And take our meals upon the ground;<br>And though the blazing atmosphere<br>Must dreadful to the eye appear,<br>The air though roaring cannons rend<br>While warriors with fierce rage contend,<br>The thoughtless French drink, laugh, and sing,<br>And with their mirth the heavens ring;<br>The walls of Philippsburg shall burn,<br>And all her towers to ashes turn<br>By fifty thousand Alexanders,<br>Who all deserve to be commanders,<br>Though they receive the paltry pay<br>Of only four poor sous a day.<br>Lavish of life, with high delight<br>I see them rushing to the fight;<br>They all appear both gay and jolly,<br>Quite covered o'er with fame and folly.<br>The Phantom, which we Glory name,<br>Spurs them to the pursuit of fame;<br>With threat'ning eye, and front all o'er<br>Bedusted, marching still before,<br>She holds a trumpet in her hand<br>To sound to arms, and cheer the band,<br>And loudly sings, with voice sonorous,<br>Catches, which they repeat in chorus.<br>Oh! people brilliant, gay, and vain,<br>Who drag with patience glory's chain,<br>'Tis great, an honorable grave<br>To seek, Eugene and death to brave.<br>But what will be your mighty prize?<br>What from your prowess will arise?<br>Regret your blood, in vain you spilt it;<br>At Paris cuckolded, or jilted.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Voltaire">Voltaire</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=534740" data-title="In Camp Before Philippsburg de Voltaire" data-description="Without a bed we now sleep sound And take our meals upon the ground; And though the blazing atmosphere Must dreadful to the eye appear, The air though roaring cannons rend While warriors with fierce rage contend, The thoughtless French drink, laug..."></div> </div> </div>

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